Between the Lines
by ModernTsunami
Summary: Mary, ever the quiet dreamer and romantic, finds it harder to restrain herself the more time she spends with Gray.


"_Once upon a time…"_

That won't do

"_A long time ago…"_

Worse.

"_It was a dark and stormy night…"_

Not much better.

I released my pen, letting it hit my desk with a clatter that broke the silence of the deserted library.

The beginning has always been the most challenging part! I plot the nerve-wracking rows, passionate paramours, touching tête-à-têtes, and agonizing adieus with such fervor, just to be stumped by the first sentence.

Only the title graced the page, written in the elegant letters I mastered only after hours upon hours of practice under Mother's instruction.

"_Don't forget to end each letter with an upward flourish. Every letter must greet the next, Mary. See how this 's' curves as if with a smile? Write it like this…"_

I took my glasses off and watched the feminine script dilute into a blur before resting my chin on the desk with a huff. The innumerable amount of books decorating the walls stood indifferently as I glared at them.

If only my name was printed on the spine of just _one_…

I glanced around, foolishly double checking that I was alone, then stuck my tongue out at the shelves.

_Ding-ding! _Someone was entering the library.

Instantly, I pulled my tongue back to its proper place, sat up straight, and folded both hands delicately over my work-in-progress.

With a small smile, I eyed my lone guest, a blurry figure in white. I didn't need my glasses to tell who it was. It was Wednesday, after all.

"Welcome to the Mineral Town Library!"

"Thank you Mary. Your father informed me the book I ordered has arrived." Polite and concise as usual.

"Yes, one moment please." I smiled while attempting to discreetly feel around the desk, searching for my spectacles among the papers and books that rested there.

"Here…" he said, and I felt his hand steady mine. I held it open as he laid the glasses on my palm.

I slipped them on.

"All better?" he inquired, and as he came into clear focus, I stared at the inspiration for the hero of my next story.

"_She stared, transfixed on the coal black eyes that bore down upon hers, his long lashes unable to hide the fact he knew what her heart whispered throughout her body. How could a man with such a noble face make her feel so unlike a lady? Tentatively, she raised her hand to his forehead, pushing the long black hair out of his face, and tracing her fingertips down across his square jaw. As she pulled her hand back, he grabbed it hard, and the coal had been set aflame..."_

Hmm, perhaps usable after a bit of work…

"Yes, thank you." I smiled politely, whilst secretly wondering what poor Doctor would think if he ever read the book.

I searched the shelves behind me for the doctor's order, lost in thought.

He'll never read the book. Even if it manages to be published, it's just a silly romance novel that wouldn't interest him.

With slight difficulty, I lifted the newest addition to the library, a weighty volume on natural medicine.

His eyes lit up instantly. Not exactly burning coal. The doctor may be passionate about his work, but seemed to lack passion in any other form.

"Please sign along the line." I requested, indicating to the leather-bound log I laid out in front of him.

He quickly removed a pen from his breast pocket and signed his name, never taking his eyes off the tome.

"Thank you Doctor. Please enjoy your read. I do hope it aids you in your work." I said. Mother always said end a conversation with a wish.

He nodded. "Good day Mary. Enjoy your work as well." He said and abruptly exited.

That's classic of the doctor. Many of the girls and women of Mineral Town harbored a secret crush on him, impressed with his good looks, intelligence, and income. Mother herself was an over-eager hostess whenever Papa invited him for dinner. It would be a dream-come-true for her if I married such a "distinguished" man, a fact she made embarrassingly clear on several of said dinners.

The doctor _was_ impressive, but unfortunately for Mother, I thought of him only as an acquaintance. Though he was an incredibly intelligent, undeniably handsome patron of the library, he lacked…something. How could I describe it? He fell flat. I wanted to be swept off my feet by a man, someone who wanted and needed me like air, someone who was passionate about _me_…

I shook the thought out of my head. That was so foolish. Imagine if Mother knew I thought such things! Imagine if she knew I _wrote_ such things…

She was always so sensitive about being the perfect lady. Even the smallest, most innocuous errors embarrass her. One time Doctor joined me as I helped Papa with his research. While collecting wild grasses, I sliced my finger on the knife I was using. The Doctor quickly bandaged me up, but not before a few drops of blood landed on my dress. When we returned home that afternoon, Mother was mortified by the stains, stayed up all night attempting to remove them before pitching the dress, and lectured me for days about being careful. To this day, she ensures that I carry my own first aid kit wherever I go, so as to discreetly cover any "blemish." Blemish! Getting scolded for bleeding is an unfortunate reality with Mother.

As the summer day continued to pass on, the townspeople passed by the windows of the library, conducting their daily duties. I ignored them for the most part, either attempting to write my story or stopping to read my favorite books for inspiration. Occasionally a guest would enter, looking to escape the heat of the day in the cool halls between shelves. Jeff, the supermarket clerk, even checked out a book on rare and dangerous diseases. It continued to roll on slowly, and though I ignored the passersby, I soon found myself longing to go outside.

I always enjoyed the outdoors. As a little girl, I would be invited to join Papa as he explored Mother's Hill. I'd run around barefoot most times, bringing him flowers, plants, berries; anything, and he would tell me all about every one of them. Mother would come along too. When Papa got lost in his work, we'd soak our feet in the spring by the mine as she told me tales about epic battles between the Harvest Goddess and Witch Princess. But as Papa's work became more well-known and his influence increased, Mother invested all her energy on becoming the epitome of class, no matter how down-to-Earth Papa remained, much to her disdain. Every Monday we still go out to Mother's Hill, but it is hardly as a family. Father devotes all his attention to the plants, while Mother devotes her attention to either complaining about the outdoors or fussing over me.

No more running barefoot; I must worry about the mud on my boots.

No more exploring through fields; I must sit in the shade to avoid sunburns.

No more stories about goddesses; I must listen to stories about neighbors.

I turned away from the window, nostalgia overcoming me. Soon I was browsing the children's section, trying to find an old book about the Harvest Goddess.

_Ding-Ding! _I quickly turned towards the entrance and placed my hands neatly in front of my dress.

"Welcome to the Mineral Town Library!"

"Well, _you're _certainly enthusiastic." He drawled.

Careful to keep my smile on my face, I finally saw who my visitor was. It was…the apprentice blacksmith? I never did get his name…He was surveying the library, and from the shadow of his cap I could see his sharp blue eyes examining every object with a sarcastic smile.

His eyes looked the same as the last time I saw him. At that time was still relatively new, having come to stay with his grandfather and learn his trade only the previous winter. I had seen him a few times around, but without Mother around to force me to be polite and introduce myself, I hadn't spoken to him much. One day, my father had a tool upgraded. Mother thought it'd be much more courteous to thank the blacksmith in person rather than simply sending a thank-you card. Papa tried to tell her no one sends a thank-you card to their blacksmith anyway, which only motivated her further. Without arguing, I decided to carry out this task for her. Mother may be a nag, but she had a good point.

Upon walking into the smithy, I saw the apprentice working silently at the anvil, but the atmosphere made it apparent I had stumbled into a tense situation. His eyes glared down at the metal he was working, staring at it with such anger that it seemed the metal was glowing orange due to the intensity of _his_ glower. Though I wasn't experienced in blacksmithing at all, it appeared he let his hammer fall _too_ heavily onto the metal, filling the room with a resounding metallic beat. His grandfather, a permanently gruff man, looked on disapprovingly, but silently.

I wanted to turn and walk out the door. I was almost tempted to before Saibara caught sight of me hesitating in the doorway.

"Is there something you need?" he asked tersely.

I took a page out of Mother's book and pretended not to notice the atmosphere. Instead, I approached the blacksmith with a sweet smile.

"You upgraded a tool for my family. My father says it's so much easier to use now! I wanted to thank you on all of our behalf."

His grumpy exterior immediately lightened, and he was visibly pleased. It appeared no one _did_ thank him for his work.

"I didn't know it mattered so much! I'm glad we could help." He said with a toothy grin. "Just come in again if you need anything else, okay?"

I was in the middle of thanking him when a loud clatter ended the harsh clanging beat and his grandson let out a swear though gritted teeth.

"What's wrong?" Saibara demanded, miffed at his grandson's apparent lack of tact and coordination.

"Oh!" He laughed darkly and spun around suddenly, as if to launch into a tirade, but his angry blue eyes made contact with mine. "…just a scratch." He mumbled, pulling his hat father down his forehead. Blood flowed down his hand.

"But you're bleeding!" I squeaked as I began searching my bag for the mini first aid kit I was forced to carry.

"It's my own fault for not paying attention." Huffed Saibara, sounding irritated.

"I said I'm fine!" snapped the apprentice.

Saibara was prepared for a rebuttal, but a moment of forgetting my Mother's education caused me to shout "Stop that!" at both of them, stunning the young man and stifling Saibara's reply.

I could feel the apprentice staring at me in shock, but decided to ignore him.

"Just wait one second…" I instructed as I pulled out the necessary supplies from my kit. I grabbed his hand then. Though his hand was long and slender, it was rough from work, and hot from the friction.

As I dabbed his injury with an alcohol wipe, his hand recoiled slightly.

"Just hold your hand still." I demanded, and, suddenly realizing I wasn't being very ladylike, added a meek "please" to diffuse the situation.

I quickly wrapped the bandage around his hand, just how Doctor had wrapped mine before. "How's this?" I asked as I finished.

The apprentice still looked at me in shock. "…Thanks." He said quietly, and I looked up to see his look of shock had disappeared. Instead humor replaced it, as he seemed to be enjoying something immensely. I released his hand, invited them both to visit the library, and then made my leave. That had been a season ago.

And now here he was, standing with the same humor and sarcastic smile as before.

"It's nice to see you again." I said pleasantly, though a bit awkwardly. He looked at my library like it was a joke.

"I'd imagine so. This place seems boring as hell." He said as he walked past me, skimming the spines of books disinterestedly.

I was shocked to hear his total lack of manners, but remained poised, just as Mother taught me.

I cleared my throat. "May I help you?"

"I suppose so." He drawled once more. "Got any good books?"

I looked him over. He didn't seem like the reading type. "Plenty. May I suggest a volume of minerals in the area?"

He let out a small laugh. "Ha, no. Not at all."

"Well, alright…" I was at a bit of a loss, then saw the novel on my desk I had been reading.

"How does a comedy about an incompetent thief sound?" I asked.

"Keep talking." He said and moved towards me.

"Here." I said, holding the novel out towards him. "It called _Phantom Thief_. It's essentially the misadventures of a smooth-talking silver-haired so-called ladies man." I laughed, remembering the ludicrous character.

He roughly grabbed the book and turned it over to read the back. I noticed not a mark remained on his hand from his cut that day.

"Alright, but if it sucks then you owe me." He said with small smile.

"You'll keep if for so long _you'll_ owe _me_. It's that good." I said while grabbing the book log on the desk. "Please sign here."

"Have a pen?" he asked.

I grabbed my pen and handed it to me. I watched him scrawl his name, then he paused, and raised his eyes to mine.

"Look, I didn't really stop by to get a book."

"So your sole purpose was to mock my library?" I asked sarcastically before covering my mouth in mortification. If Mother heard that tone! Apparently I'm more impressionable then I though; I picked up on his attitude so quickly.

He only laughed though, seeming to enjoy my comment.

"No, that was an added bonus. I actually came by to give you a proper thank you.. Nobody manages to shut that old man up, but you did so easily! It was a hell of a shock and hella funny. Stop by sometime, I could use you again sometime." He said and glanced at me with another sarcastic smile."

"Uh, no problem." I managed to get out, not quite sure how else to reply. "Think of the book as yet another bonus, and take care of it, okay?"

"Will do. I'll return with a review soon." He said. "See ya, Mary." He joked, gesturing to the name plate on my desk.

I suddenly felt a little self-conscious, but couldn't help but smile. "You're not the only one who can read." I mumbled and grabbed the log.

He was apparently left handed, as he had smudged the long neat handwriting of and Jeff signed above his. Something was sloppily written in all caps below, and it took me a moment to decipher.

"Gray?"


End file.
